Complicated
by GuitarGoddess17
Summary: F/F Slash. A Chloe/Lana song fic to "Complicated" by Avril Lavigne. Please R&R.


Complicated by GuitarGoddess17

*Disclaimer: I do not own, Chloe, Lana, or anything even remotely associated with Smallville. Also, the song is Avril Lavigne's "Complicated", which was not written by me, nor do I own the rights to it.

*Rating: PG-13 

*Author's Note: I usually don't go for song fics, or anything with Lana in it for that matter, but I knew I had to do this one… Mostly Chloe's POV. Please R&R.

*Summary: A Chloe/Lana songfic to Avril Lavigne's "Complicated".

**Lana**

_"Chill out  
What you yellin' for?  
Lay back   
It's all been done before  
And if you could only let it be  
You will see."_

              She stood there, with tears in her eyes, her bottom lip quivering violently. Her blonde hair shook as she spoke. 

                "I can't do this anymore!" she shouted at me. It hurt me to hear the desperation and pain in her voice, but I couldn't move my mouth to try to comfort her. I was too scared. We both knew subconsciously when we started our relationship that one of us would reach this point. The point where one of us couldn't bear keeping this hidden any longer. Obviously, Chloe had reached that point first. Now we stood in the Torch office, late at night, both of us afraid of what the future held.

                "I tried, Lana, I tried so hard. I pretend not to care when Clark stares at you, I pretend

not to care when that jackass boyfriend of yours kisses you, and I pretended that I could care less about the most beautiful girl in school. But I can't do it anymore!" She threw herself onto her desk chair and began sobbing.

                I went over and kneeled on the floor beside her. Reaching for her shoulders I said soothingly, "Chloe, if you would just give me some time…" She jerked herself from my hands. She looked up at me, the pale skin around her eyes already red and puffy.

                 "I _have given you time, Lana. Lots of time. You're never going to wake up one morning and think, 'This is the right day to break-up with my longtime boyfriend and tell the world I'm gay!' It's not going to happen. And I can't live a secret any longer, even if the truth does hurt every person I know."_

                That was my Chloe, always wanting to expose the truth. Except this time it wasn't the truth about meteor rocks; it was the truth about our relationship and my sexuality. 

                "Chloe, why can't you just wait a little longer? Whitney's leaving for the Marines soon. We could come out then, after he's left. I know everything would be fine that way, and I wouldn't have to hurt Whitney…you'll see, it'll be alright."

                She glared at me. "No, it won't be alright. You'll just put it off longer. Don't you realize that _I'm the one who has to watch you in another person's arms? You're not the one who has to hide your feelings from your best friend, whose heart you know you're going to break when you tell him you are dating the love of his life. I've never pretended to be anyone I'm not, not once in my entire life, and I'm not going to start now. You're just leading me on."_

                "No, it's not like that—"

                "Yes, it is." She stood up and walked towards the door. "Goodbye, Lana." She walked out of the office and I was left there torn apart, wondering what to do.

**Chloe**

_"I like you the way you are  
When we're drivin' in your car  
And you're talkin' to me one-on-one"_

                I got in my car and attempted to wipe the tears from my eyes before I took off. I was ashamed of myself. I hate crying, especially in front of people. Even worse when you are crying in front of the person who is making you cry in the first place. 

                Why did she have this effect on me? Why couldn't I scorn her like I had before? I leaned my head against the steering wheel, reminiscing. I thought about how we first started spending time together. We had gotten into the habit of staying late every night at the Torch office, finalizing and editing every layout. Since we were the only ones there, and the radio was busted, we were forced into conversation. After several weeks, we had actually gotten to know each other pretty well. And to my dismay, I didn't hate her.

                She wasn't the perfect Ms. Pretty Pretty Princess that my preconceptions had lead me to believe. In fact, she had a lot of flaws. She said 'damn' a lot in private conversations (with me, anyways). She had a scar on the back of her neck from falling off her horse when she was six, and that's why she always wore her hair down. Her feet smelled when she took off her sandals. She made fun of her teachers without mercy, and she never failed to mention what an 'uptight snob' her Aunt Nell was. She even admitted that she acted perfect in public because she cared what people thought about her, and she wanted them to think good things. "In fact, you're the only person I feel comfortable around," she had said. "You're the only person that I've ever been myself around."

                I had felt special, even a little proud. Out of all the people that adored her, I was the one who knew who she really was behind that saintly mask. And I liked her. In fact, I adored Imperfect Lana. 

                And we spent even more time together. I began to have feelings for her (and not in a friendship way), but I brushed them off. How could I, the ever-independent Chloe Sullivan, be falling for the prom queen? It wasn't possible, even with the new human version of Lana. Then one night, after I had given her a ride home, she didn't hop out and wave goodbye before going into her house. She had sat very still in the passenger side, biting her lip. "Are you alright?" I asked. She turned to me and her eyes swept over my face. "No," she said breathlessly, and before I realized what was happening, she leaned over and kissed me. At first it was forceful and passionate, and then it dwindled to a gentle sweetness. She pulled back, her face bright red, and thanked me for the ride before jumping out of the car. I was left speechless and shocked, but a whole new world of possibilities had opened up before me.

                The following weeks were confusing. Every night at the Torch she was quiet and a little withdrawn. I didn't want to bring up the kiss because I was afraid that she would say it was a mistake and it shouldn't have happened. But every night when I drove her home, she would talk endlessly. She would say every little thing that came to her mind, no matter how asinine or insignificant it was. It was amazing how she would go from being mute to being so exhaustingly talkative, and so quickly. We had spectacular conversations those nights, but we always avoided talking about the kiss.

                One night I couldn't take it anymore. I needed to know, no matter how scared I was of the answer. "Why did you kiss me that night?" I blurted out suddenly. The car went silent. Her voice was barely audible as she answered, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen, I just…needed to know. I didn't mean to scare you."

                "You didn't!" I exclaimed. Trying not to sound so desperate, I said more quietly, "You didn't. I thought you were freaked out by it. I wasn't." I added coyly. Another pause followed.

                "Did you like it?" she said softly.

                I didn't know what to say, so I was honest. "Yes, I did."

                "Really?"

                "Yes." I was getting nervous. "Did you?" We reached her house and I pulled up to the curb. I looked over at her and she was smiling at me. 

                "Yes, I did." 

                My heart began beating faster. "Then why don't we do it again?" This time I leaned over and kissed her. This was slower then our first kiss, and this time our tongues traveled away from our own mouths.

                And that was how it began. We started dating, more or less, although there were never public displays of our affection. Neither of us was stupid enough to think that any small town, let alone Smallville, would be supportive of a gay couple. Not to mention that Lana was still dating Whitney. We had an unspoken agreement about the secrecy of our relationship. But that never troubled us. Behind close doors we were loving and passionate, and that was all that mattered to us. We never went too far physically; although we were falling in love, neither of us was ready for any kind of very sexual relationship. But our love for each other progressed just the same.

_"But you become_

_Somebody else  
Round everyone else  
Watchin' your back  
Like you can't relax  
You tryin' to be cool  
You look like a fool to me."_

                Time flew by. We were devoted to each other and formed an unbreakable bond. What we had was perfect; there was honesty, trust, and deep love. Well, it _was perfect. After several months, I began to think about what we were doing. As in love as we were, we had been lying to our friends, our families and to ourselves—besides the fact that Lana had been cheating on Whitney the entire time. It hit me hard and fast—we had been living a lie, and I hadn't been true to myself. _

                I didn't say anything for a long time, though. The situation bothered me, but I didn't want to push Lana too fast. I could care less whether or not people knew I was a lesbian, but I knew Lana felt differently. I figured that if I gave her time, she would eventually realize that she also needed to be honest.

                This wasn't the case. I hinted about coming out of the closet all the time, but she never changed her attitude. It began to annoy me. I'd watch her with Whitney and her so-called friends, and she was a completely different person. She'd giggle with them about cute movie stars or musicians, or lean into Whitney as he put her arm around her. 

_"Tell me  
Why'd you have to go and make things so complicated?  
I see the way you're actin' like you're somebody else   
Gets me frustrated  
Life's like this you  
You fall and you crawl and you break and you take what you get  
And you turn into  
Honestly, you promised me  
I'm never gonna find you fake it."  
  
_

                It drove me crazy. Once, while walking by her and her group of friends, I heard one of them comment on 'that weird newspaper girl'. Then I heard Lana's voice say, "Yeah, I wish I didn't have to work with her on the Torch." It wounded me deeply, but I didn't say anything to her. I was too embarrassed and hurt. Then, after a similar incident in which I heard her agree with somebody that gay people were disgusting and homosexuality was wrong, I confronted her. 

                "I know you don't want anyone to know about us, but you're going too far. You need to calm down and stop worrying that every word you say will give us away!" I yelled.

                "Chloe, what's the big deal? I'm just playing it safe…"

                "How can you even say that? You should be ashamed of yourself. You're hurting me and only fooling yourself. This has to end, Lana. You need to tell the truth."

                She sighed and looked up at me with her beautiful wide eyes. "I promise I'll come out soon. Just give me a little more time."

                I still trusted her, so I gave her more time. Yes, I was being naïve, but I didn't want to lose my faith in her. But now my faith in her had landed me here, crying in my car as I drove home feeling disillusioned and dishonest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_"You come over unannounced  
Dressed up like you're something else  
Where you are and where it's at you see  
You're makin' me  
Laugh out  
When you strike a pose  
Take off  
All your preppy clothes  
You know  
You're not foolin' anyone  
When you become  
Somebody else."_

                The next morning I woke up without my puffy eyes but with disheveled hair and a bad mood. I trudged to the kitchen and made myself a cup of hot tea. Last week I decided that I depended on caffeine entirely too much and should quit drinking it, so tea is my new solace. Just as I was about to sit at the table, the doorbell rang. I groaned and prayed it wasn't Clark or Pete. I couldn't handle the guys right now. I stumbled to the door and opened it.

                Lana stood there smiling.

                I tried to close it, but she forced herself in with surprising strength. "We need to talk," she said. I looked her over suspiciously. I knew that she had strategically dressed in her light pink dress to appear non-threatening and sweet, but I wasn't going to fall for it.

                "I think we've said all we needed to say," I said menacingly.

                "I told Whitney it was over," she said.

                I stood there, shocked. "What?"

                "I told him it was over." She paused and looked down at the floor. "He was pretty devastated." She looked up at me guiltily. "I didn't tell him about us. I couldn't break his heart that much more."

                "Oh."

                She walked towards me and grabbed my hands. "Please, Chloe, I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have waited for so long, but I was…" her voice wavered, "I was just so afraid."

                "Did you tell your aunt?"

                "N-No. But I didn't have the chance, I swear!"

                I stared at her, examining and evaluating her. She was beautiful. I couldn't deny it. Her skin was flawless. Her hips were curved in exactly the right place, her legs were long and shapely. But I knew deep down, in the tiniest crevices of my heart, that she wasn't right for me. She would keep lying to herself and everyone else; maybe not forever, but certainly while she was in high school. Yes, she broke up with Whitney, but that's still far from admitting she's not straight. She still needs the appreciation and acceptance of everyone else. 

                I don't need that, though. And I never did. And I don't want to be with anyone who does.

                I took a deep breath and spoke. "Lana, go back and make up with Whitney. The two of you are good together. You need him, and he needs you. I love you, and I know you love me too, but you aren't ready for the same type of commitment as I am. It wouldn't work for us. I love you so much, and I'm sorry."

                I watched her eyes fill up with hot tears. Her face changed from disbelief, to distraught, to anger. "Chloe, you don't mean that!"

                "Yes, I do. Now go to Whitney before it's too late. Go." I held my tears inside. I couldn't let her see me cry again.

                Her lips quivered. "Fine," she spat out. "I'll go." Tears began to stream down her face and her voice trembled. "Are you sure?" she asked softly.

                I couldn't take it. Before I realized it, I had locked her in my arms and was running my hands up and down her back. _Think about this Chloe, think! I pulled away quickly, though not before kissing her cheek. "Yes, I'm sure."_

                More tears came. "I love you."

                "I love you, too. Bye," I whispered.

                She slowly turned and walked out towards the door. I think she expected me to call her back, but I didn't. Suddenly she turned around.

                "Chloe?"

                "Yeah?"

                "Why did you have to make this so complicated?" she asked pleadingly.

                I smiled sadly. "It already was."_  
  
_


End file.
